


Hell Toupee

by lunar_mischief



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: supposed to be, this was supposed to be angst, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunar_mischief/pseuds/lunar_mischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bad hair day leads to drastic measures: the return of pirate Spain, an axe to the face, and a distraught Italian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Toupee

**Author's Note:**

> So it was raining the one day, and I decided to try my hand at a drabble. I don’t know about you, but whenever I think of the rain, I think of the opening line to In His Eyes from Jekyll and Hyde the Musical. It’s a beautiful song, but the first couple of lines sound kind of sad. So I was like “Ok, cool. I’m going to get something angsty from this.” Not so much.

“Lovi, please come out,” Antonio’s muffled voice sounded exasperated through the door. It had been ten minutes since his other half had locked himself in the bathroom.

“N-no!” the Italian sniffled. “I look terrible!”

“You could never look bad, mi tomate.”

“I’m not coming out,” Lovino huffed.

Lovino could hear Antonio sigh through the door. “It’s just hair.”

“’It’s just hair? Just hair?!’ It’s like I don’t even know you!” the smaller nation cried.

“I mean it will grow back,” Antonio said, trying to remain calm. Sometimes his lover could be so childish.

“Well until then, I’m not leaving this room!” Lovino glared at the door, daring his fiancé to come in. Hearing the sound of retreating footsteps, he sighed and turned back to stare at himself. It just wasn’t right. He wasn’t _him_ without it.

Suddenly, there was a pounding of footsteps and the door was thrown open with a crash. Lovino jumped and faced his attacker, eyes wide and tears glistening.

"Antonio walked in with a determined look and his face and began “See, it's not so ba...”' before stuttering into uncomprehending silence. “Mio dio…” he whispered at last, lost for words. “What happened? Where is it?”

Lovino hung his head in shame. “It’s gone…”

Antonio looked like he was about to cry. “How?”

“She snipped it right off.”

“Mierda!” the Spaniard hissed venomously.

Lovino’s head snapped up. Antonio never cursed.

“Toni?” he asked hesitantly.

“I am going to murder that woman! How dare she do this to me! You know how much I love to tug that thing! Where’s my axe?”

The auburn-haired man just stared. He hadn’t seen his lover this angry since his pirate days. _Oh, there was that time that Francis grabbed my ass last week and he kicked him in the- no, wait, that was me._

“Antonio, you need to calm down. It’s just hair, it will grow back. You said so yourself.” Lovino tried not to cringe at his own words, words he never thought he would utter. The things he did for his psycho axe wielding fiancé.

“It’s not just hair. It’s your curl. Think of all of the good times we’ve had because of it!” Antonio cried.

Lovino blinked. It was true. More often than not, his curl had caused them to spend many wonderful nights together, as well as afternoons. And mornings. And dawns. And picnics in the park. And – Actually, was there a time when it hadn’t been pulled? True, Antonio was overly romantic, passionate, and generally in the mood and Lovino loved being bedded. And sure, they had fun before it was ever tugged at. But their meetings were always so much better whenever it was yanked.

Lovino wordlessly walked into his closet and grabbed something from the corner before returning to Antonio’s side, offering the object in his hand.

Antonio smiled, taking his familiar ally from his lover’s outstretched hand.

“Go cut that bitch.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to the wonderful MoonClaimed for helping!


End file.
